The Frond Legacy
by TomRK1089
Summary: Reworked after several years of pulling my hair out. Now that I'm older and balder, it ought to be a much more enjoyable read. Immediately after returning from a threeyear stint in the spacetime continuum, Artemis and the People face a new problem.
1. Chapter 1

**The Frond Legacy **

**Version 2.1**

**Author's Note: This damn fic is like an abusive lover. I've never finished it yet, but I keep coming back to it. It was first begun in 03, then subsequently abandoned. I attempted to continue it in 04, abandoned it again. In 05 I began contemplating a new plot, and wrote some preliminary jottings, which were subsequently lost. Now, I've got a much more detailed, sensible plot going here. The events take place after The Lost Colony, just as a side note. Right, this time for sure, then...**

**Chapter One**

_Emotional_ was not typically the first word which came to mind when describing Artemis Fowl, Senior. In fact, it usually wasn't even on the top ten words used to describe him. Yet totally contrary to what the public would expect, the great leader and Fowl patriarch broke out into tears upon spotting his eldest son, who had been missing for close to three years now.

It was a bright morning, yet the warm weather and gentle breeze held no pleasure for Artemis, Senior as he arose from his bed. His first action was to check his bio-mechanical leg, which had replaced the one he had lost off of the coast of Murmansk. The leg was a marvel of modern engineering, and operated via specialized neurological linkages between his brain and and the miniature motors inside the leg. It was even covered in bio-identical skin, giving it the appearance of a normal limb at first glance. Not only that, but it had cost somewhere in the vicinity of three million euros. But the triumph of medical science failed to interest him. _Arty would have been fascinated by it,_ his subconscious whispered to him. _Not only that, but he would have even found a way to improve it, too. He was a genius, but he's gone now._

Artemis dismissed this traitorous thought as if it were an impertinent servant. In fact, it was just how he had dismissed Artemis Junior's bodyguard, Butler, and his wild ravings about supernatural creatures and dimensional transport. All that Artemis Senior knew for certain was that his boy -- his only treasure for years -- was gone.

But life goes on, he reminded himself with an effort. And now there were the twins to look after. He began to dress, choosing a comfortable pair of slacks from the closet and an open-necked polo shirt. As he fastened his belt, he heard the doorbell ring. With a muffled curse, Artemis slipped on a pair of loafers and walked downstairs to the entryway of the manor. He spotted two forms through the frosted glass besides the door. One, a tall, enormous figure, could only be Butler. The other, however, was shorter, and Artemis' pulse quickened as he walked towards the door. He opened it quickly, looking out onto the stoop.

"Hello, Father," Artemis Fowl the Second said.

* * *

It was an hour later. The two Artemises, Senior and Junior, sat across from one another in the sitting room, with Butler standing discreetly off to the side. Artemis Senior's hand still trembled slightly as he sipped his tea. 

"So you're telling me that it's all true?" he asked, looking his son in his mismatched eyes. "Everything Butler told us? About fairies and elves?"

"Every word of it," Artemis said. "Though I must tell you that this must remain a secret. Butler and I, because of our actions, are immune to any future mind wipes. You and Mother, however, are not." He paused. "Butler had mentioned something about...twins?"

Fowl Senior laughed at how Artemis delicately tested the word, as if it were made of fine crystal, and would break if used roughly. "Yes. They're with your mother right now, at her sister's house for the weekend. Identical twin brothers. I think that you'll get along splendidly."

"I hope so," Artemis said. "I am unused to being a brother. This will take some practice."

Butler grunted delicately. "One question, Artemis. Ah, Junior, that is. How will you explain the fact that you have not aged in the past three years to the authorities?"

"That is a question to which I have given much thought to, Butler," Artemis replied. "Logically, the subject of time travel must never arise, therefore for all intents and purposes I am now eighteen. The discrepancy in appearance could be disguised by plastic surgery, but the fact that I have not grown in height nor weight for the past three years would be noticed by any competent physician." He stroked his chin pensively. "It seems as though we are faced with quite a conundrum."

"Well, fortunately, it's still the summer, so that's not a pressing concern," his father said, dismissing the questions surrounding temporal dislocation as if they were nothing more important than the score of a football game. "What's important is that you're back, Arty. We're a family again." His eyes brimmed with tears as he reached across the coffee table to wrap Artemis in a bone-crushing hug. When he released him, however, he was all business. "So, you've got the whole summer ahead of you. What do you plan to do? Do you want to travel somewhere? I hear that St. Bart's is beautiful this time of year."

"I honestly don't know what my plans are," Artemis said, nonplussed. "I suppose that I must begin making plans for attending university, since I'm now legally eighteen. Then there are some interesting elements to fairy communications systems that I want to investigate. Also, I'd like to finish my paper on nuclear medicine. But as for grand schemes, I've none at the moment."

"Then that's for the best," his father concluded. "Life for us shall finally return to normal."

_Normal?_ Butler thought. _For us, there's no such thing_.

Well, here's the first chapter, ready for reviewing. I've tried to polish it up as much as is feasible, but if I've committed some sort of continuity or stylistic error, let me know. I eagerly await some reviews!


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Butler was more right than he knew. The Fowl family's lives were not about to return to anything approaching normal anytime soon. In addition, several other people were about to be jolted out of their otherwise complacent routine, and abruptly involved in matters far beyond their experience.

It started off as a minor errand only a week later -- Artemis needed to have his laptop repaired. The teenager had been experimenting with the fairy communicator which Holly Short had given him three years prior, trying to replicate its circuits and integrate them into the wireless card on his Mac Powerbook. However, the power requirements of such a device had burnt out several of the components. Ordinarily, Artemis would have fixed the laptop himself, but lately he had been placed in charge of watching his younger brothers. And, as any older sibling knows, wielding a soldering iron to perform delicate mechanical procedures while watching two small children was a good way to ruin a computer.

"Now, you're sure this professional is reliable?" Artemis asked his father, watching the laptop anxiously as it was tossed into the backseat of Mister Fowl's Bentley. Artemis had decided not to inform his father that he was still in contact with the fairy world. It would cause his parents much less anxiety, and save them from knowing information that could potentially put them in harm's way.

"Absolutely, Arty. Your mother and I will return in time for dinner," the elder Fowl reassured him.

"And you remember the instructions on what he is to do? I don't want this to come back with its hard drive formatted."

"Artemis, the instructions are typed and taped to the lid of the laptop. I doubt he'll miss them."

"Sorry, Father. I am merely a bit worried about entrusting someone else with a task that I normally perform," Artemis replied, still irritated that he was to watch his younger brothers for the remainder of the afternoon. Genius or not, Artemis was still a teenager. And who wants to spend any amount of their summer vacation watching their younger siblings?

His father laughed. "Of course, Arty. But you have to trust someone eventually, whether you like it or not." He got into the car, next to Angeline, with Butler at the wheel. "Take us away, Butler."

"Of course, sir," Butler said, still slightly resentful. After all, he had been let go in disgrace three years earlier. And even though it had not been his fault, the perceived failure still rankled. He turned to Artemis. "We'll be back shortly. Are you sure you'll be fine?"

"Of course, Butler," Artemis replied testily. "As you very well know, the security system is armed, there are still two blasters stowed in the armory, and I can contact you at any time via my cell phone."

Butler was unmoved by the boy's logic. Such elaborate precautions had failed in the past. "If anything happens -- anything at all -- let me know," he said, heading the car down the gravel driveway. Artemis watched his parents and closest friend drive away, leaving him alone at the manor.

Well, not _entirely_ alone. There were still Finian and Jonathan to deal with. Just entering their "Terrible Twos," the twins were apt to be just awakening from their naps at this point in the day. Sighing at the indignity of it all, Artemis trudged back towards the house.

As he did, the communicator ring on his finger began to buzz, signalling an incoming call. Artemis put his hand up to the side of his head. "Yes?"

"And what kind of greeting is that?" an indignant whinny replied. "No 'How are you doing,' or 'Hello, who is this?' "

"Get to the point, Foaly," Artemis said, grinning slightly. The _bona fide_ wunderkind of the underground world, Foaly was guaranteed to have news on some interesting phenomenon or research that he thought that Artemis would be interested in.

"Someone's cranky today," Foaly said, chuckling. "Let me venture a wild guess: you're stuck home alone with the twins."

"However did you deduce that?" Artemis asked, rolling his eyes as he entered the foyer of the manor.

"The unusually terse greeting, the elevated level of stress in your voice, and the fact that you mentioned the other day that your parents were off to see a show tonight in the city."

"Correct as usual," Artemis said, walking through the hallways to enter the study. He sat in front of one of the PCs lining the walls and cracked his knuckles, placing his fingers on the keyboard. "Now, go ahead. Amaze me."

"All right, then," Foaly replied on the other end, chuckling. "How do you like this? I've been working on a neutrino-based communications chip."

Artemis arched one eyebrow. "Isn't that a bit confusing? You already have the Neutrino firearms, which, by the way, have nothing to do with the particles of the same name."

"Perhaps," Foaly admitted. "But I wasn't in charge of naming these things when those were first made. In any case, this new chip set will operate via highly-powered neutrino pulses. As you doubtless know, neutrinos are elementary particles that pass through basically anything and everything. So, we figured that using something that could pass through a light-year of lead would be the ideal carrier -- no more destructive interference."

"Except, of course, for the fact that the beam would also pass through the device at the receiving end," Artemis said, his interest piqued. "How did you solve that problem?"

"It was simple in hindsight," Foaly whinnied, sounding inordinately pleased with himself. "We packaged an anti-neutrino emitter into each communicator. The incoming neutrinos interact with the anti-neutrinos, releasing easily detectable energy. And since they pass through mass uninterrupted, we can use them to talk anywhere on the planet -- no more interference from the earth."

"What about strong magnetic fields? Those would throw the neutrinos off-course," Artemis said. "It imposes a much more practical limit to your scheme."

"True, but we tested it. Background radiation and magnetism isn't enough. Only in the presence of a highly magnetic or radioactive device would you experience interference."

"I'll go you one better," Artemis said, leaning back in his swivel chair. "Particle entanglement pairs. Instantaneous transmission of energy and data."

Foaly chuckled into his microphone. "Typical Artemis Fowl solution. Fix a communications problem by building a quantum computer."

"It _is_ elegant, you have to admit," Artemis said. From above him, he heard a noise coming from the nursery. "Foaly, I have to go now -- the twins are awake. We shall speak later."

"Right. I'll send you some of our data and let you have a peek," Foaly said. On Artemis's PC, the relevant files appeared and were saved to the hard drive. "Don't have too much fun there."

"I'll keep that in mind," Artemis said dryly, ending the call. He looked up at the ceiling with an expression of distaste. "This ought to be...fun."

* * *

"And it just died on ye, laddie?" 

"Yeah, no warning or nothing. Can you believe it, man? Now I wish I had gotten the extended coverage on it," said a tall American boy, his laptop on the counter of the store where Artemis had specified his own recalcitrant piece of technology was to be repaired. Butler emerged from the Bentley, cradling the expensive piece of hardware carefully. No need to compound the damage by dropping it onto the pavement. Walking through the dimly lit shop, he stood behind the tourist. The boy sensed Butler's presence behind him, and turned to face him. "Whoa, hello. I mean, this will only take a second." He turned back to the repairman and wrote something on a scrap of paper. "Here's my name and mobile number. If you could give me a call when it's fixed, I'd be much obliged." The tall, skinny American flashed a toothy grin at Butler. "All yours, man."

Butler stepped up to the counter, placing Artemis's laptop on it gently. The repairman shook his head. "Another one? They dinnae make these like they used to."

"Quite," Butler said. "The instructions are affixed to the device. The owner would like them followed to the letter, and promptly."

"It'll be done by tomorrow," the owner promised. He put the laptop behind the counter, next to the tourist's. "Will that be all?"

"Indeed," Butler replied tersely, already headed for the door. Now that his mundane errand was over, he was perfectly content to dismiss it from his memory as almost totally inconsequential.

How wrong he was.

* * *

Artemis mentally braced himself as he walked up the stairs to the nursery that the twins shared. Thankfully, he wasn't called upon to watch them on his own often, but he viewed any incursion on his free time as an affront of sorts. Entering the room, he saw Finian and Jonathan both sitting in their respective cribs, making unintelligible gibbering noises at each other. Finian picked up a small plush animal, and threw it over the bars of the crib at Artemis, who dodged the hurled object. 

"What is with you two miniature hooligans?" Artemis muttered under his breath. "Tossing small, stuffed animal figures at me? What does that accomplish?" He replaced the plush toy in Finian's crib just as Jonathan decided to continue his twin's assault on their older brother, by throwing a hard plastic teething ring. Unfortunately, the ring went high, going over Artemis's head to strike Finian just above the eye. The small boy's smile began to waver, and his eyes brimmed with tears -- the danger signs, Artemis had discovered, that signalled a tantrum about to begin. There was a slight bruise above his little brother's right eyebrow, and Artemis looked about furtively before walking over to the crib. Lifting the small child out, he sat him on his lap, checked once more that there was no one around to see, and touched the spot with his index finger.

A small, blue spark jumped from his finger to the bruise, which faded away as if it had never existed. Finian, surprised, switched from crying to laughing with the speed of a hyperactive chipmunk.

Artemis felt unusual. He hadn't used his newly-acquired magic since he had emerged from the time tunnel. He wondered if it was wise to be using it in so casual a fashion. And could he replenish his supply of magical energy if it were to run out? Then there was the fact that he had hidden his new abilities from his fairy friends. He was certain that Holly would not be pleased if he were to reveal that he had concealed the truth about his magical abilities from her.

Jonathan interrupted his thoughts by starting to howl, demanding to know what Artemis and Finian were doing, and whether or not it was fun. Sighing, Artemis placed Finian into the nursery's playpen, and then removed Jonathan from his crib to do the same. After doing so, he scattered a liberal assortment of plush animals and hard plastic toys for the twins to amuse themselves with. Retreating out of the nursery cautiously, he returned to his study, calling up the files Foaly had just sent him. This was Artemis's new pasttime, looking over the LEP's newest technological advances and seeing if he could improve them, or catch possible flaws. Technically, these schematics were not to be sent aboveground, but Foaly had avoided that detail by listing Artemis as merely a 'consultant.' The irony was not lost on the boy.

Artemis looked at the minute circuitry of the device, pondering its design for any safety defects. Since the earth was bombarded by neutrinos every minute from the sun, there was no need for any sort of heavy shielding around the generator -- not that it would be effective anyways. The only requirement was a magnetic bottle to contain the antineutrinos and keep them separate from their counterparts. Artemis had expected the new system to be bulky and unwieldy, but Foaly had managed to compress the entire package into the latest LEP helmet. An impressive feat. For once, it seemed that the young Irish boy had no useful opinion to contribute to the design.

He attached a note to the schematics and sent the package back to Foaly. The file made its way through a complicated network of cable routings and satellite taps, designed to keep anyone but the LEP and Artemis from being able to access the underground network. So far, it had done its job, but that was because the fact that there was any contact between the two worlds was on a need-to-know basis. As Foaly had said when he first demonstrated the setup, "You can't tap something if you don't know it exists."

Turning away from the PC, Artemis mused on what to do next with his afternoon. There was a rather interesting article in _Nature_ magazine on the speed of light being exceeded, which seemed to contain some rather spectacular errors that he would like to comment on. Amazing how such bunk could make it into a peer-reviewed magazine. His attention was diverted as his PC chimed, alerting him to an incoming video transmission.

"Artemis Fowl. I see that you're doing well," said the blonde girl on the screen. Artemis was still vaguely surprised every time they spoke at how much older Minerva looked. To him, only a few weeks had passed since she was twelve, and now she was almost his age. And nearly as smart, too.

"Minerva, how good to talk to you," Artemis replied, turning to face the small camera mounted on the monitor. "Have you seen this latest article in _Nature_? It absolutely baffles me how such garbage can be reported as reputable science."

"I didn't think that there was anything in the world that baffled Artemis Fowl," the girl replied.

"Oh, there is. For example, cooking is extremely confounding. What should be simple chemistry is much harder than it appears. Or driving -- an ordinary application of physics, yet much more intuitive and difficult than I expected."

Minerva sighed. "What did you hit now?"

"Grazed, really. It wasn't anything too serious. Merely a mailbox. And anyways, there was only minor damage to the vehicle."

"So, tell me, Artemis. How have you been since you -- eh, returned?"

Artemis considered the question. "At a loss for direction, actually. Once more I find myself buried in the mundane details of the ordinary world, rather than the extraordinary. It is rather vexing, but lately I've been diverting myself by reviewing some of the LEP's design schematics. Foaly's had three years to improve fairy technology, which was already far enough ahead of humankind's, and I have been catching up ever since."

"Why? Do you think something's going to happen?"

"Something is always happening; it's merely a question of how I shall become involved in it."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Three days later, Artemis's prophetic remark was fulfilled. Even he could never have predicted how this was to occur, however -- it was pure happenstance. Such chance was to have enormous ramifications, though, and not just for him -- for people everywhere, human and fairy.

Events were first set into motion by the American Butler had noticed in the shop where Artemis's laptop had been deposited for repairs. His name was Eric Champlain, and at that moment all he wanted to do was reclaim his computer and pay the exorbitant fee, and return to his tour of the country. Neither the shopkeeper nor Eric, however, realized that the two laptops had been transposed. Eric was now returning to his hotel with Artemis's modified laptop, and when Artemis returned to the shop for his property, he would end up with Eric's.

Eric was quite observant -- he realized that something was amiss as soon as he booted up the machine back at his hotel room. The whirring of the drive was much quieter than his own laptop, and the screen which was presented to him after the machine finished loading was most certainly not his. Any ordinary person would have immediately returned the machine to the shop and demanded the correct one in return. Eric, however, was not 'ordinary' in the way that most would define the term. Instead, he decided to browse about the memory for a bit. He could then discover who the owner was and return it promptly, he rationalized.

The laptop's power utilisation curves were heavily abnormal, Eric discovered. An inordinate amount of power was being used and routed through a highly nonstandard chip array. The configuration wasn't recognized by the computer, and appeared to send out a transponder pulse to an orbital satellite. The technology was similar to most satellite phone networks, but was modified to accept several unusual inputs. It also didn't discriminate as to a specific satellite -- in other words, the broadcast wasn't directed. Useless, then, as well as highly illegal.

His curiosity running rampant, Eric attempted to use the device. Running the associated program launched a standard VoIP client, utilising both audio and video. A green LED blinked on top of the laptop's case and Eric recognized it as a videoconference camera. The digital phonebook displayed two numbers, each of which were at least twenty digits long, and corresponded to no normal area code that he knew of.

"Curious," he muttered to himself. Eric often did this when working on computers. Sometimes he even imagined that they responded to him. He decided to check within the computer's files for more clues as to the identity of the owner. Opening a word processing document, he found what appeared to be homework assignments. The name at the top of the paper was Artemis Fowl. However, the name meant nothing to Eric. Though Artemis might have been notorious among the criminal underground, he was totally unknown to a student from across the Atlantic.

Now totally absorbed by his search of the laptop's hard drive, Eric began to browse through various image files on disc. There were a variety of schematics, depicting futuristic weaponry, communications devices, and personal transport. Each image included symbols alongside it that vaguely resembled Egyptian script. There were maddeningly few English annotations, and the few that existed were cryptic enough that they might as well have said nothing at all. "Power supply shield improved," for instance, or "Ought to prevent similar incident to BKR." Apparently this Artemis person had developed a personal shorthand that only he understood.

Eric grew more daring -- he decided to dial one of the numbers listed in the modified teleconference program. Bringing up the relevant window, he keyed in the first number. For a moment, the screen displayed only static, but was quickly replaced with a live feed. Eric was now looking at a small room, crammed with computers. The interior was filled with cables and enormous monitors that took up the length of one wall. An oddly-shaped swivel chair sat in one corner, on several fluorescent floor tiles. Something seemed off, though, and after a while, Eric figured it out -- the proportions were off. Not by much, but enough that the eye registered a discrepancy between the height of various objects in relation to that of an average person. It seemed oddly miniaturized.

The door at the far end of the room slid open with a pneumatic hiss, and something walked in. It took a moment for the image to reach Eric's brain. It couldn't be real, though. It appeared as though some equine quadruped had entered, though it possessed a humanoid torso. The being's head turned to face Eric. Or rather, it faced the camera that was displaying Eric's face.

"Artemis, is that you?" the creature said, sounding astonished. "No, of course not. Who in Frond's name are you?"

"What the hell?" Eric said, dumbfounded. "Is this some sort of prank or something?"

The centaur, for that was the closest image Eric's brain could connect with the animal before him, turned to a control panel. "OK, I don't know who you are, but in a moment I will. And a second after that, where you are and what you're doing with Fowl's computer."

Eric deduced that the centaur was entering a search routine. Probably similar to an IP traceroute. He quickly cut the connection and slammed the lid of the laptop shut, his heart pounding frantically.

"What should I do?" he asked the laptop. It was silent, offering no advice. He glanced around his hotel room. Depending on where the being had been located, he might only have a few moments to escape the immediate area. There was no time to lose. Grabbing his backpack, he stuffed a change of clothes, the laptop, and some extra cash in both dollars and euros into it. He quickly exited the room, not even bothering to lock the door behind him.

"The question now," he said, muttering under his breath, "is where to hole up and create some sort of plan. I need to get out of the immediate area." He walked rapidly through the hotel's exit, ignoring the strange looks he was drawing from the passing pedestrians. "If I can negotiate some sort of deal with this Fowl character, perhaps we can go our own separate ways without any trouble."

He began to run through a list of possible sites to hide out in. The list, sadly, was limited. He was alone, in an unfamiliar country, with limited resources and finances. It was likely only a matter of time before he found himself cornered.

Cornered. The word sparked a thought in Eric's head. Perhaps the safest route was to let himself get boxed in. After all, if his pursuers thought that they had total control, they might be lax in their attempts to corral him. And then he could gain the upper hand, strike a bargain, and be on his merry way. A rudimentary plan began to unfold in Eric's head, and he started walking with a bit more purpose in his step.

* * *

"Well? Are you going to take it?" 

"Take what?" Holly Short asked, trying to seem casual in front of her partner, Mulch Diggums. The short, smelly dwarf was impertinent and annoying, but he had still been relieved to see her return from her three-year absence on the island of Hybras.

"You know what I mean," Mulch said, swallowing a head of lettuce whole. "The job offer from the LEP. Was a pretty good offer, from what I hear."

"It was," Holly admitted, shifting in her chair. To be honest, she was considering it very seriously. The LEP had undergone a major restructuring during her absence, mainly led by Trouble Kelp and Councilwoman Vinaya, with the result that her record had been expunged of the slimy imputations of Ark Sool, former Internal Affairs and LEP commander. She had been offered Commander Julius Root's former position, an unprecedented first for the officer. After all, this would make her the youngest LEP commander yet, not to mention the first female. Holly had asked Trouble how it was possible that such a decision would even be considered. He and Vinaya had responded that, due to the string of successful missions to her credit, despite harassment, demotion, and resignation, public opinion had undergone a dramatic shift in her favor.

"It probably helped that you were viewed as a noble, self-sacrificing heroine when you disappeared into the time tunnel," Mulch observed, following the cabbage with a rutabaga and several carrots. "After all, we all thought you were probably gone, until Foaly was able to detect the impending arrival of the island last year."

"I want to take it," Holly confessed. "But..." she paused. Though it was hard to explain, she had become slightly fond of her independant agency that the two fairies had founded. And it was possible that without her...corrective influence, Mulch might not stay on the straight and narrow. Not to mention that the impudent sprite, Doodah Day, had apparently joined their motley crew. "I'm not sure about abandoning the agency to run right back to the LEP."

"Hey, I managed to run this agency for three years. If you want to go back to the LEP, I can still keep it going. And besides, think of the links you'd have to the underground," Mulch said. "We'd be a valuble source of criminal information, and you could pay us instead of three of us splitting one check."

"I suppose that would work," Holly said, standing to pace the floor of the office. "I just wish there was something to make the decision a bit more clear."

It was at that moment that their telephone began to ring. Holly, being closer, and having produce-free hands, grabbed it first. "Short and Diggums, Investigators," she said in a professional tone.

"Holly, it's me," she heard Foaly say on the other end. The urgent tone in his voice made it clear that this was not a how-are-you-doing, what-are-the-relatives-up-to, type of phone call. Rather, it was a we-have-big-trouble, end-of-the-world, type of phone call.

"What is it?" Holly asked, adrenaline racing.

"Not over this line," Foaly warned, his paranoia in full control. "Get to the Police Plaza Ops Booth, now."

"I don't have access to that," Holly said. "I'm technically no longer an LEP officer."

"Just say the word and you will be one," Foaly said.

Holly gritted her teeth furiously. D'arvit, she had wanted more time to think this decision over, and now it was being forced on her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mulch nod. Whatever her decision, he would be fine with it, apparently. This new, altruistic Mulch was almost too much to handle.

"Fine," she said. "I'll do it."

* * *

A mere thirty minutes later, Holly had been sworn in as LEP commander, and rushed to the Ops Booth to find out what had Foaly so frantic. Bursting through the double doors, she skidded to a halt on the slick floor tiles. "Dammit, Foaly, this had better be important." She paused, thinking about what she had just said. "Hmm. Must come with the job." 

"Oh, it's important, all right," Foaly said, pulling up a video file on screen. "Watch this. I recieved a call from Artemis about an hour ago."

"What's so unusual about that?" Holly asked. "You've been sending him schematics, and he responds with suggestions. You've been doing that for over a week now."

"It's important because this time, Artemis wasn't on the other end," Foaly said, playing the video. Holly watched as the image of an unfamiliar human appeared onscreen. The background seemed to indicate a hotel room. The face peered at the screen for a few seconds. Then, an expression of shock appeared across his face, and Holly heard Foaly's voice through the speakers. "Artemis, is that you? No, of course not. Who in Frond's name are you?"

Holly groaned aloud. "Foaly, how did this happen? And why didn't you terminate the call immediately?"

"What the hell?" the teenager on the other end said, recoiling from the screen. "Is this some sort of prank or something?" Holly heard Foaly mention something about tracking him down, and the connection was cut.

"This is a situation," Holly admitted. "We have about ninety seconds of visual contact. Can you run a face match?"

"Only if he's already in a database somewhere, which he's not," Foaly said. "Voice patterns aren't on record anywhere either. Ditto for retinal analysis. The only upshot is that he wasn't expecting to see us. That means he doesn't know anything about the People."

"Where did the call come from? The communicator?" Holly asked, beginning to pace.

"Actually, from a laptop, which I assume is Artemis's. I traced the IP address to a hotel, but I can't yet pin down which room."

"Give me the guest list. I'll run them down and see which ones left the hotel today."

"How do you know he left?"

"Foaly, you said on the tape that you were tracing him. Would _you_ stay put after that?"

"Point taken."

Holly stopped pacing in front of the plasma screen. "We need to contact Artemis and get him working on this. Apparently he was modifying the laptop or the communicator, or both, and they fell into someone else's hands. There's not enough here to justify a surface mission. Likely all this will take is the recovery of the laptop, and maybe a field wipe." She turned to Foaly. "Dial Fowl Manor. The actual phone, not the communicator. And make sure that it can't be traced."

"It won't be easy. That area is being upgraded to fiber optics right now, so I'd have to go through Scopes to get a tie-in to a land line, and then--"

"Foaly, I don't care. Just push the right buttons and make it happen."

Foaly turned to the control panel and began to work, muttering under his breath. "All that power, straight to the head."

"I heard that."

"I meant for you to."

Holly chuckled. "It is a bit unusual, isn't it?"

"It's more than that. It's totally unprecedented. You're too young by at least a century. And now you're channelling Julius's spirit or something. Next thing I know, you'll be calling Mulch 'convict.'"

"Foaly, just push the button before I push it with your face," Holly said, somehow maintaining a straight face.

* * *

Artemis grabbed the telephone before it could ring a second time. "Hello," he said tersely. "Who is it?" On his lap sat a laptop. Regrettably, it wasn't his, but rather someone else's, a person named Eric Champlain. He would have to track this unknown individual down and recover his property. 

"You know who it is," he heard Holly say at the other end, her voice muffled by the complex routing of the call. "This is an unencrypted line, so I can't say much. I'd advise you to...ah, pick up the package, as soon as possible."

"Understood," Artemis replied, deducing that somehow either Holly or Foaly had become aware of the swap. Apparently there was some urgency to the matter. "Is there a problem at home?" he asked cautiously.

"Just some prank phone calls."

"Indeed. Most likely our friend Eric. I'm on it." He disconnected without bothering to say goodbye, sat down, and steepled his fingers pensievely. So. Judging from their hastily improvised code, this Eric person had obtained Artemis's laptop, and somehow managed to access the jury-rigged communicator chip to contact Haven. Artemis silently berated himself for letting the laptop ever leave the house. From now on, he resolved, he would do all repairs himself, or remove all critical data from the devices. The chip broadcast an encrypted signal to whichever orbiting satellite was closest. The signal would be identified by Foaly's _Scopes_ trackers, and routed accordingly. This allowed anyone with possession of the laptop to use the communicator. Artemis had errenously assumed that only he would have such access, with regrettable consequences.

Artemis knew that, while it was indeed a serious blunder, the situation was not nearly critical enough yet to merit an aboveground mission by the LEP. Rather, they expected him to handle his own mess. He and Butler would need to apprehend the culprit, obtain his property, and possibly request a field mind-wipe.

His PC in the study chimed -- Foaly had sent him the video file, presumably, as well as the location of the laptop. The other benefit to the chip was that Foaly could track it by satellite within a few feet. Opening the file, he noted the coordinates. It appeared to be stationary at present, and Artemis transferred the data to a handheld device.

Pulling on a heavy slicker to ward off the damp evening chill and light drizzle, Artemis entered the kitchen to alert Butler, where he had been preparing the family's dinner.

"That will have to wait, old friend," he informed him. "We've got something else to do first."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Though not nearly as brilliant as Artemis, Eric was nonetheless capable of thinking brilliantly under pressure. After his initial panicked reaction to the vague threats on the other end of the video conference, he had begun to slow down and think more rationally. Assuming that this Fowl fellow was at least as clever as Eric, there would be some way of tracking the laptop. That meant he either had to disable it somehow, or at least put some distance between himself and the computer. At present, Eric was sitting down at a table at an internet cafe, blending in with the other technophiles sipping their cappicuinos and energy drinks. He glanced at his watch as he began to peruse the files on the computer, allowing himself ten minutes before moving again.

One file on the hard disc caught Eric's eye. It appeared to be a diary, belonging to this Artemis fellow. However, it was encrypted -- he would need to find a way to access the cleartext version.

Most ordinary teenagers would have been frustrated and stymied by this roadblock. Eric, however, merely turned the laptop off, unscrewed part of its base with his handy Swiss Army knife, and removed the BIOS chip from its place on the motherboard. He waited a few minutes for the chip's internal backup battery to fail, then replaced it and restarted the laptop. With the BIOS passwords erased, he could add himself as the root account on the laptop, and from there gain access to the file.

Eric began to read rapidly, scolling down quickly. He was astonished by what he discovered. As he had already deduced from the other files on the laptop, Artemis was no ordinary teenager. Instead, it seemed that he was some sort of criminal mastermind, and fabulously wealthy to boot. His eyes widened as he read about an attempt to kidnap a fairy, which had apparently succeeded. There were several images, videos and other files appended to the diary. Disbelieving, Eric opened one of the video files. It showed nothing but the entryway to a home somewhere. Then, while Eric peered at the screen intently, the image froze, and out of nowhere, small, blurred figures appeared. Eric looked back at the diary file. Apparently, this was a fairy "Recon team." And they had been totally invisible to the naked eye.

Feeling mystified, and slightly worried, Eric ran his fingers through his hair, slumping forward in his seat. Could this diary possibly be true? He needed more time to read it and consider.

Eric's wristwatch beeped, reminding him that he ought to be moving again. For a moment, he sat there. His plan would have to be modified quite a bit, now. Previously, he had thought that he had stumbled into some sort of elaborate prank, or possibly some form of industrial espionage. Apparently, it was much more serious than that.

_Much_ more.

* * *

"So what are we up against here, Artemis?" Butler asked as the pair made their way towards the city. He had hastily gathered up an assortment of weaponry, most of dubious legality. He had also insisted that Artemis wear a Kevlar vest and carry one of the fairy blasters with him. Butler's paranoia, rather than being dulled with age, was becoming more pronounced. 

"An isolated individual has absconded -- turn left here -- with my laptop. His name is Eric Champlain," Artemis replied, handing Butler a 3x5 glossy photograph taken from the video feed. "According to Holly, he's accidentally used it to make contact with Haven. Our goal is to recover the laptop and remand the perpetrator to LEP custody for a mindwipe." He tapped the GPS tracker's LCD screen pensievely. "He's been darting about quite a bit, but at present the beacon is holding steady at these coordinates."

"And you're sure that he's unarmed?" Butler said, rounding a corner without bothering to brake. "No other enemies standing by to foul things up?"

"I'm reasonably certain that that's the case," Artemis said as Butler double-parked the Bentley in front of an electronics store. Artemis opened the passenger-side door and stepped out, continuing to speak. "Now, this shouldn't be too...difficult," he said, trailing off slowly. The banner on the front of the store flapped in the wind, catching his eye. **LAPTOP SALE! 50 to 75 OFF! **it screamed in gaudy red type. "He wouldn't have..." Artemis muttered, rushing through the sliding doors into the store. In front of him was a plethora of laptops on display and in boxes, stretching out through most of the store. He recovered quickly, turning smoothly to face Butler. "We have to split up. I'll look for the laptop, you recover Champlain."

Butler groaned -- a most unprofessional outburst, in his case -- and turned to push through the crowd of bargain hunters. Artemis consulted his GPS, but the satellites couldn't resolve distances this short. He would have to seek it out on his own. Shoving past the swarms of people around him, his eyes darted about the aisles, searching for the correct model.

Across the store, Butler was vainly trying to pick out the child from the photograph. He remembered the face from the encounter at the repairman's shop, but spotting him here would be nigh impossible, even for him. Then, by chance, he caught a glimpse of the lanky youth, standing near the USB storage kiosk. Butler raised his hand to cover his mouth, and muttered into his throat mike. "Artemis, I've spotted the target. Mass storage, near your position."

"I've got him," came the reply. "Remember, no gunfire. I can handle this."

"Are you sure?" Butler asked, his every impulse to drop the thief with a shot from the fairy blaster from here, and damn the consequences. But Artemis would never allow that.

"I'm positive."

* * *

For the past twenty minutes, Eric had been speed-reading through a hard copy printout of Artemis's diary. What he had found was fascinating. Either Fowl was totally bonkers -- a distinct possibility -- or there was indeed another world of which humanity had not the slightest clue. 

Right now, Eric was standing next to a display for a 1-terabyte external hard drive, looking out for Fowl before being spotted himself. He had initiated a Google Alert to send all relevant information to his email account, based on several keywords from the diary. All that remained was to give Fowl the location of the laptop, and get back to his trip without one of the painful sounding 'mind wipes' mentioned.

Eric's heart went into overdrive as he spotted the monstrous manservant from the repairman's. This must be the lethal bodyguard mentioned as well. Endeavoring to remain causual, he started moving towards the store's exit. _The key_, he thought to himself, _is to remain calm. Very, very calm._

* * *

_The key,_ Artemis thought to himself as he entered the restrooms, _is to remain calm. I must remain focused._ He looked at his reflection in the mirror, and took several deep, cleansing breaths. Next, he closed his eyes, and reached deep within his mind, looking for his purloined stash of magic. The spark came much more easily than he had expected, and he felt a surge of energy throughout his body. 

"Most invigorating," he said aloud, opening his eyes. As he had expected, his reflection had disappeared. Artemis Fowl, human, had managed to shield like a fairy. Quite impressive for a mere teenager.

"Now to go find Master Eric," he whispered, exiting the restroom, totally unseen.

* * *

Eric had made it out to the parking lot and walked quickly into an adjoining alley, reasonably certain that he had escaped detection, when a hand grabbed his shoulder from behind. His body tense, he jerked unexpectedly and turned around. No one was behind him, it seemed, until a voice erupted out of nowhere. 

"Just stay right there, and nobody gets hurt," he heard. This was definetely not good, Eric reasoned. Vague threats from invisible people? A definite crimp in his plan. He turned to run, and tripped over some invisible obstacle. _Definetely not good_, he moaned internally.

Rolling over onto his back, he was shocked to see an immaculately dressed Irish teenager appear out of thin air. His face was blank, as if he were in some sort of trance. Then, expression returned to his visage, and the shock which had come over Eric was broken. This was likely Master Fowl, as he had planned. Only the circumstances were less than ideal.

"Jesus," Eric said, gasping. "What are you?"

Artemis allowed the slightest of Artic grins to cross his face. "Merely human, sadly. I take it that you are the thief who has absconded with my laptop?"

"Now wait just a moment," Eric said. It was a mark to his unmitigated ego that he could feel slighted even when lying on the ground in an alley, being confronted by a powerful criminal genius. "I didn't steal anything. There was a mixup at the repairman's shop. By that logic, _you've_ stolen my laptop."

Artemis arched one eyebrow. "Oh? And you were just now about to return my property to me?"

"After a fashion," Eric said. "I had every intention of giving you back your laptop."

"After snooping through it, no doubt."

"Well, snooping is an awful harsh way to put it."

"Harsh, but accurate. What did you see?"

Eric considered his next words carefully. Ordinarily, he would claim to have seen nothing incriminating and plead to be on his way with no further trouble. But something in the way the genius phrased the question made him think that he already knew the answer. "Something I can't explain," he said cautiously. "Something not normal, that's for certain. Possibly not of this world? Is that what you're aiming at?"

"Yes, it is," Artemis said. "You see, I already know that you managed to gain access to my communicator prototype. This has put me in a very awkward situation. You see--"

"Now I've got to be 'mind-wiped,' is that it?" Eric said brightly. He laughed. "Yeah, I read your diary, too."

Artemis's brow wrinkled as he considered this new information. Never before had someone read his diary. It was an intensely personal document. The thought of a total stranger viewing what he had regarded as private musings was incredibly intrusive. Not to mention a security breach far worse than any ten-second video conference. "As I see it," he said, "you must be taken into custody, so that the LEP can decide what to do with you."

"I don't think so," Eric replied, scrambling to his feet. "In fact, here's what I think is going to happen next. I'm going to run, very fast, that way." True to his word, he bolted towards the other end of the alley. Artemis, unsurprised, drew the fairy Neutrino blaster, sighted with the computer-aided scope, and managed to hit Eric in the back of the left knee. The boy went down, falling onto a dustbin and spilling assorted rubbish across the pavement.

Butler rounded the corner a second later, his eyes surveying the scene. Artemis, wonder of wonders, had manaed to successfully neutralize the target. Admittedly, he had wasted precious moments talking glibly. Butler would have merely shot first and asked questions later, as the cliche went. But the result was the same.

Artemis returned the blaster to his suit jacket pocket. "A fair shot, if I may say so myself."

"A regular Wyatt Earp," Butler said dryly, picking up the stunned boy and slinging him over his shoulders. He declined to mention the fact that with the Neutrino's computer-aided scope, a mentally impaired primate could likely have neutralized Champlain. "Now let's get out of here before things get messy." He laid the stunned teenager in the backseat of the Bentley and secured his wrists behind his back with a set of handcuffs. Artemis slipped into the passenger seat as Butler put the car into gear. Pulling out onto the road, he began to head back towards Fowl Manor.

In the back, Eric slowly began to regain motor functions. He sat up in the seat, peering out of the window. Currently, they were stopped at an intersection. He began to turn away from the window when something caught his eye. Approaching on their right, at high speed, was a black lorry with tinted windows.

Butler, preparing to make a right turn, spotted it as well. The truck appeared to be aiming right at them...

"Oh, shit," Eric said in the instant before impact. Then his vision was obscured by a maelstrom of twisting metal and shattering glass.

With reflexes like lightening, Butler mashed the accelerator. This was all that saved him and Artemis from sustaining serious injuries. Eric was not so fortunate. The bumper of the truck struck the driver's side of the car, sending the sedan into a skid and tearing off the right rear door, sending twisted metal and glass shards everywhere. The force of the blow sent Eric hurtling backwards, _through_ the opposite door and into the street. The suicidal lorry driver continued his blind assault, abandoning the Bentley to clip Eric in the hip as he struggled to his feet. The unlucky American tourist went up over the bonnet of the cab, smashing into the windshield as he went. The truck driver slammed on the brakes, sending Eric's body flying onto the pavement once more, and elicitng a howl of pain as his right arm snapped.

As soon as Butler had ascertained that Artemis was unharmed except for minor cuts and abrasions, he flung open the wrenched driver's door, drawing a powerful Glock 9mm handgun which had replaced his trusted SIG Sauer one year earlier. Dropping to one knee and bracing his arms on the hood of the Bentley, he sighted over the top of the barrel and fired at the lorry. His first two shots hit the front tire, the third and fourth shattered the windshield, and the fifth was aimed precisely where a driver's head would be. Somehow, though, there was no driver in the cab. Butler saw no hand at the wheel, yet the truck shifted into reverse, backing into the fender of a parked car as it prepared to continue its assault.

"It's an ROV," Artemis shouted from his spot within the car. Blue sparks zipped across his forehead and arms, closing lacerations caused by flying glass and shrapnel. "A remotely operated vehicle, controlled from afar."

Butler nodded, dropped his aim slightly, and sent the rest of the Glock's clip into the bonnet of the truck. Steam erupted in a cloud from the hood, and machine oil dripped from the cracked engine block. The truck lurched one final time, then stopped moving entirely. Dimly, Artemis became aware of sirens in the distance, and the cries of bystanders. He managed to extricate himself from the twisted wreckage, and walked with just a hint of unsteadiness over to Butler.

"I think I got it," Butler said. "It's stopped moving, at least." He stood, ejected the clip from the Glock and gave Artemis a cursory once-over. "You seem to be all right. How about him?" he asked, nodding towards Eric's prone form. Thankfully, any spectators had been driven away by the gunfire, but they would return shortly. "Is he alive?"

Artemis walked over to where Champlain lay groaning. It certainly didn't look good. The boy's forehead had been severly lacerated by a shard of glass, his right arm had been broken, at least three ribs were cracked, and he may have internal bleeding. From the angle at which he had been struck, Artemis also concluded that his back had likely been broken. He knelt beside the thief.

"Champlain," he said. "Can you move your legs?"

Eric's face was covered in blood, which spurted from a twisted nose and from the wounds on his face. His right eye fluttered open weakly. "Fowl? Oh, God. It hurts." He coughed wetly, sending a gout of blood over his shirt. Artemis's stomach contemplated a revolt, and he struggled to keep himself composed. The sirens began to grow louder -- the authorities would likely arrive soon. Off to the side, Butler was checking the disabled lorry.

"Lie still," Artemis said, considering his options. There was really only one course of action -- he would have to attempt a healing. Artemis took several deep breaths, blocking out the chaos around him and focusing himself. He placed his right palm lightly on Eric's chest. The boy coughed weakly again. Already he was growing weaker. It was now or never.

"Heal," Artemis whispered, pushing out a tendril of his newfound magic energy. This time, however, instead of a relaxed, euphoric flow, the magic emerged in a turbulent torrent. An army of blue sparks played across Eric's body, and Artemis felt his stomach do another of its gyrations. Slowly, the damage began to be repaired. Eric's eyes flew open and bulged as his back arched, the vertebrae sliding into place. One lung was reinflated, and his broken arm reknit itself. The flow of blood slowed, then stopped as cuts clotted ever, then disappeared without even a trace of a scar. Ribs merged together in an orderly fashion, instead of protruding at random. Eric's eyes closed once more, and his breathing deepened. Artemis felt his own eyelids flutter, and his stomach gave one final warning. Turning aside, he heaved the contents of his last meal onto the pavement. He was utterly exhausted and wondered what would happen next. He distantly felt rain beginning to fall, and saw Butler walking towards him, just as his vision faded and he lost consciousness, descending into a pool of darkness.


End file.
